Pink
by Cabforcutie
Summary: Just when he thought she stopped wearing pink.
1. Chapter 1

It was a bit ironic. Growing up, she was the least feminine girl in her class. In the fourth grade she hadn't been invited to Rhonda's sleep over because she wasn't girl enough. And yet, she was always covered in pink. Pink bow. Pink Sneakers. The light pink dress with an even brighter, even more pink, stripe at the bottom.

It had dawned on her recently that she was overdoing it. She was over compensating. She was trying too hard to tell the world that she was, indeed, a girl. Or maybe she was simply trying to tell one person, one very specific person, that she was a girl. However, she realized over the years of failed attempts at getting his attention, that no amount of pink would make her feel attractive and feminine if she just wasn't. No amount of pink would make him see her as a woman, if he just didn't. She went on a hunt for non pink clothes today. She bought a white sweater. Blue jeans. A new pair of navy blue converse. No pink. She would try to tone it down this year. She had decided she wouldn't even wear her pink bow to school tomorrow. New Helga. Hopefully she wouldn't remind anyone, or him in particular, of the one eyebrowed bully with the pink bow.

She walked out of the department store and into the mall, towards the food court. She was pretty sure she was done shopping today until something caught her eye. She stopped to stare at it through the window. In front of her was a manikin with a perfect body, wearing a bright pink laced bra and panty set. Helga was a junior in high school. To her dismay, her body had changed in ways that she had never expected. She was tall, toned. And unlike middle school, she found herself capable of filling a bra. _No more pink_ , she shook her head, and turned to start walking away, stopping a few steps later. _Hmm, but maybe this doesn't count. I mean.. It's not like anyone is going to see it._ She turned to face the manikin again, convincing herself that she wasn't breaking her new rule by doing this, and walked into the store to make an additional purchase.

* * *

He sat directly behind her in class, trying to pay attention to the history lesson. Something about today was off, though. And yet he couldn't place his finger on it. The powerpoint presentation had 'The Civil War' written in big bold letters, followed by smaller bullets. Their teacher was reading off of the slide when Arnold realized what it was. Her bow. It wasn't there. He could see the board pretty clearly without the ribbon obstructing his view. It was...weird. Not the bad kind of weird. He supposed it was a good thing. He never realized how… distracting it was. Not to say that her bow distracted him from his history lessons. He simply saw a lot more of it than he saw the board. In fact, in some odd way it wasn't just the bow that seemed to be missing. Pink, he realized. His view was no longer being blocked by a glob of pink. He looked at the back of her head, her hair hanging on a plain, white sweater. It was interesting. It was different. He wasn't sure why, but it didn't feel right. It felt like something was missing. He shook his head, clearing the thoughts of Helga's hair accessories out of his mind, realizing that he was distracting himself by thinking about how the lack of her bow wasn't a distraction anymore. He quickly wrote down the notes, trying to listen to their history teacher's comments about the civil war.

A few bullet notes later, it happened. She shifted a bit in front of him, the neck of her sweater pulled towards her shoulder. His pen stopped mid sentence as he stared at it. A bright bra pink strap peeking out from under her sweater, hugging her shoulder. The pink contrasted heavily with the white. Arnold slowly felt his mouth go a little dry. His heart beat slightly got faster as his eyes lingered on it, tracing it down, to see the beginning of bright pink lace, which dove back under the sweater. His mind began to wander, as he began to piece together where the strap was leading..

"Arnold?" His thoughts were interrupted by his history teacher.

He cleared his throat. "Yes Mr. Lions?"

"Are we paying attention?" His teacher looked at him, looking a bit amused. He saw Helga turn around slightly in her seat to look at him. They made eye contact, before Arnold's eyes flickered toward the bra strap. Helga followed his gaze. He thought he saw her cheeks flush as she pulled the neck of her sweater up quickly, tucking the strap underneath and turning back around to face the front of the class.

His teacher cleared his throat again, snapping Arnold back.

"Uh, yes Mr. Lions, of course." Arnold said, feeling his face a little heated.

"Very well then," Mr Lions continued, "Now, Robert E Lee was extremely against the abolition of slavery…" The teacher said as he walked towards the front of the 11th grade classroom.

Arnold attempted to write notes, trying to follow along when she moved again. She tucked her hair behind her ear, causing her sweater to pull down.

 _So much for no more distractions_ , he thought, as he gave up on writing and let his eyes rest on the bright pink.


	2. Chapter 2

**Heyy! So I had actually intended this to be a one shot, but since a few people took interest, and also because the first part seemed kinda rushed I decided to continue it. Hope everyone doesn't hate this. Also, who else is craazy excited about the Jungle Movie?! Cannot wait!**

Helga sat on her bedroom floor in front of her mirror as she carefully wrapped a strand of her hair around Olga's old curling iron, twisting it upward, mimicking the instructions in the video.

The last 3 months, or so, she had been using her free time to watch youtube tutorials on hair-styles and makeup techniques. The hope was to get better at being a girl in the privacy of her bedroom, so that she could, one day, be presentable in public. She grimaced thinking about the last few times she had attempted to flat iron her hair, making the rooky mistake of doing it in the morning, with no prior practice, before heading to school. She was sure he probably didn't even notice that she had done anything different to her hair on those days, seeing as how he had hardly looked at her during class. Even so, she felt like a complete idiot, as she often spent the the better part of her class time combing her fingers through her hair in attempts to tame it. Every time, eventually she would give up on it, tying it back in a tight bun with the extra hair tie on her wrist.

Helga released the clamp on the curling iron, letting her hair bounce back down before another embarrassing memory entered her mind. This one involved bright red lipstick that Rhonda had somehow convinced her of wearing. Helga hesitantly agreed after Rhonda slyly stated, "Come on Helga, you've got awesome lips, give Arnold a chance to check them out."

She, of course, deeply regretted this decision afterwards, when Arnold gave her a puzzled look as he walked into class. It was definitely not the way a guy looks at a girl when he's checking her out. What's worse was what he said to her after taking his seat. Her mind flashed back to the conversation.

"Hey...something about your face looks different," she remembered wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. It was one thing for him to give her that weird look on walking in, it was another for him to _comment_ on it.

"Really?" She had replied without turning around, "I don't know what you mean," the response sounded even dumber in hindsight.

There was an awkward pause, "I mean, something about you looks different."

She sighed, pulling the neck of her sweater up to her chin, "Yea, I might have borrowed some lipstick from Rhonda today," she laughed nervously, turning her head the slightest bit to look at him over her shoulder.

"Oh, ok." She heard him take out his book, "It looks good," she rolled her eyes and snorted in response.

"What? No really, it does."

She turned her head, "Yea, that sounds real convincing after asking, 'what's wrong with your face?'"

She remembered his guilt stricken expression, "No, no, I was just… I probably didn't phrase that right."

"Don't worry about it, Arnoldo," She had responded, sinking in her seat.

"Ow," Helga said, as she felt the hot iron sting her pinky. Arnold hadn't said anything in response, probably out of kindness.

She looked at her reflection, parting her hair to one side. It looked better than the first time she attempted it. Still, she felt a little disappointed. She always hoped that she was secretly pretty, if for no other reason than the fact that she shared genes with Olga and Miriam, who were, despite their flaws, attractive women. Somewhere in the back of her mind she let herself believe that she was too, and that she simply needed to learn how to doll herself up. However, the past months of finger-burning attempts at looking more like a girl yielded less than impressive results. Nothing worse than realizing that even at your best, you're still not as pretty as Lila.

She unplugged the iron and climbed onto her bed. 10:58, pretty decent time to call it a night, especially since she felt wiped out from all the curling and general disappointment in herself. She crawled under her sheets, letting her head sink into her pillow. Just as she felt herself drift into sleep, her phone lit up, jolting her awake.

* * *

Arnold and Gerald were good kids. They didn't get into trouble. They didn't break the rules. They most definitely didn't break laws. And yet, somehow Arnold found himself walking home alone a little buzzed. Actually, at this point it might be a little more than buzzed. He vaguely remembered what happened. It started at Stinky's house. Or maybe Sid's. Or was it Harold's? Wait no, Harold's orthodox jewish family didn't keep alcohol in the house, did they? Ok, so maybe he didn't remember where this happened exactly, but he did remember that there were shots. Shots that him and Gerald had not intended on taking, but had, for some reason. Arnold strained his mind to remember more. There was some pressure from the guys, Harold convincing the others to partake in a drinking game, the argument that they were almost seniors in high school had been made.

Point was that Arnold was now uncharacteristically… drunk. Buzzed, he told himself, cutting himself some slack. He stopped and stared down the street. He knew he needed to find Gerald. He took his phone out and typed the name into his contacts, staring at it to make sure he got the right one, before pressing the green button.

* * *

She felt her heart rate go up significantly as she read the name that flashed across her phone.

Sitting up in bed she stared at the picture of him that filled the screen, wondering if he had made a mistake. Before she could stop herself, or consider what she was going to say to him, she swiped right with her thumb and placed the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" She phrased it as a question, even though she knew who it was.

"Hey," His voice sounded a little different, tired maybe.

She wanted to ask him what was wrong, ask him why he was calling her. Instead she found herself saying a soft, "Hey."

"Did I wake you?"

She stifled a yawn. "No," she lied, her voice still sounding sleepy.

She heard him laugh softly, "Sorry if I did."

She suddenly realized why he sounded the way he did, "Arnold, are you drunk?"

"A little buzzed," He responded, a little too quickly, "I know, it's weird. I wasn't planning on it. I'm trying to find Gerald."

"Where are you?" She heard his feet hitting the pavement as he walked.

"I'm ok, don't worry about me," Helga was sure she heard sirens in the distance.

She rolled her eyes, feeling concerned and angry at the same time, "Don't tell me what I should, or should not, worry about. Tell me where you are. Are you by yourself?"

"No." He paused, "I mean yea. Sort of….I just need to find Gerald," Arnold said, without answering her question.

"Arnold, where are y—"

"Helga, just trust me. I'm fine, I'm going home."

"I thought you were trying to find Gerald. Do you know how to get home?"

"Yes, I can get home," He replied a little annoyed, before saying, "Or, I could come see you, if you want."

She felt her stomach do a flip at this and let out a panicked, "No!" She steadied her breathing, "No, don't come here."

He was quiet for a bit, she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, "Ok, if that's what you want."

There was a silence. Just as Helga was about to tell him to go home and hang up, he started again, "So...why'd you stop wearing your bow?"

Helga swallowed hard, feeling a pang of excitement as she thought, _He noticed! He noticed I stopped wearing my bow!_

She took a minute to consider what to say to him. After all, most of the reason for ditching the bow was to get his attention,"I just figured it was time for a change." She felt stupid after saying it and heard nothing but the sound of a car rolling past him in response. "I wanted to stop wearing so much pink," She added quickly, not feeling too much better about either one of the answers.

Arriving at the street corner across the boarding house, Arnold pursed his lips, lost in thought, "So you decided not to wear pink anymore?"

"Yea. Pretty much."

Although she couldn't see it, a soft smile tugged on the corner of his lips.

"But..I like pink on you," He said it quietly, almost as if he was speaking to himself. She couldn't bring herself to say anything, reminding herself to breath.

He leaned against the lamp post across the street from the boarding house, placing his free hand in his pocket. Nothing was said for a while.

She wanted to keep talking to him. She could talk to him all night if he would let her. But she had a feeling it was coming to an end, and what she didn't want, was for _him_ to be the one to end it. Before he could have the chance, in bout of nervousness Helga started, "Ok, well, get home safe-"

"Mr. Lions spoke to me after class today."

She furrowed her brow, not sure how this was related to her bow. "Ok," Was all she managed to say, "why?"

She heard him sigh.

He kicked a pebble with his red sneaker, "I guess he feels like I'm not really paying attention lately."

"Why is that?"

He shrugged, "Because I'm not."

Helga was surprised by this, "Really? The golden boy admits to not paying attention in class? What's the deal, Mr. Lions isn't that boring."

Arnold Chuckled again, "No, he's not."

She could hear crickets chirping in the background. If she was truly a good person, she'd tell him to go home. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She wondered why he was telling her about Mr. Lions.

He contemplated the next statement, "He thinks It might be a good idea for me to change seats."

Helga sat up straighter in bed, "Why?"

"I guess I've just been a little distracted. That's all." He looked up at the sky.

"What does that have to do with where you sit, though?"

He was quiet again, "Well lately it's been difficult to pay attention," She picked up a hint of frustration in his voice. He considered what he was about to say. She was probably going to punch him tomorrow for saying it, but he continued on, his inhibitions low, figuring he would take his chances,"I mean, you keep coming to class with your wide necked shirts, and your bright pink lacy bras, and it's sort of distracting."

Helga's mouth dropped open. She felt heat rush to her cheeks.

"How do you-how do you know I-"

"And then there's your hair," Arnold cut her off for the third time, starting to pace back and forth, rubbing his hand on the back of his head.

"What's wrong with my hair?!" Helga was going to kick his ass if he said anything about how bad it looked when she straightened it.

"Nothing," He replied, matter of factly, "Don't get me wrong, it looks really nice. Like, really nice. But, do you have to keep running your hands through it? All I can do is focus on smell of coconut and- and strawberries? Is that what it is?"

She wasn't sure how to respond, luckily she didn't need to, "And then you came in that day wearing that lipstick…." He trailed off. She felt her heart beating in her chest. "And, I don't know what's wrong with me," It was quiet for a bit before he ended, "You're just..I mean…. It's just a little distracting."

Helga sat there stunned. What was she even supposed to say to all that.

She considered her reaction. Should she be mad? She took a deep breath,

"So what, it's MY fault that you're getting in trouble with Mr. Lions?" Trying to sound angry.

He chuckled, "All I'm saying is, if you could just stop baring your shoulders to me, I might be able to listen to Mr. Lions more," she could hear the smile on his face as he said it.

"Arnold I- " she was interrupted by a buzzing sound followed by some shuffling.

After a minute he came back on, "Hey, sorry, Gerald's calling,"

"Oh, ok," she felt her heart sink.

"I should take this," he said, referring to the phone call.

"Ok"

"I'll…. see you at school tomorrow?"

Helga found herself nodding, "Helga?" She realized he couldn't hear her nod, "yea, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye,"

"Bye," she managed to say, before hearing her phone beep, signaling the end of the call


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! So first off, this isn't my best lol and I'm sorry about that. But since some of you are enjoying it, and I want to see this version of Arnold and Helga, along with all other versions of them, ending up together, I'm gonna do my best to keep going and give it a nice end. Also, One of the guest reviews actually called out a few things that I, myself, had some concerns about regarding the story. I know that my depiction of Arnold was pretty uncharacteristic. I was really hoping that I wasn't making him sound creepy lol, but more like... a 17 year old guy who can't help it. Hope I didn't offend any of you guys by such an interpretation of him. I usually don't like it, myself, when I read a story that shows Arnold and Helga acting out of character. But this story is loosely in my mind, and for the most part Arnold and Helga are the same love-able Kooks they've always been. BTWs, thanks for the reviews, I appreciate them all, good and bad :) This "chapter" is short, but I have some more stuff I'm working on. Until next time!**

* * *

The next day was torturous for her. She woke up, thinking it must have been a dream, until she checked her phone and found his name listed under her recent calls. She hadn't gotten any other phone calls or texts since then, however, and the day was almost over. She was starting to feel tired, probably from the lack of sleep after the phone call. Most of the night was spent tossing and turning, as her mind replayed the conversation over and over. She started out the day elated, but as the day progressed with no word from Arnold, she felt herself growing more impatient and frustrated.

 _It probably didn't mean anything_ , Helga thought to herself. _He was drunk, he probably doesn't even remember. Or maybe..._ Helga felt her heart sink as she thought of an even worse possibility. _Maybe he meant to call someone else_. She considered this before remembering the specific details he had mentioned, like her hair, the lipstick….the bright pink. No, he knew who he had called. She just wasn't sure if he regretted it now, considering his current utter, and complete, silence.

She headed down the hall, her stomach churning at the thought of seeing him in her next class. She still wasn't sure what her plan of action was, not sure if she should just ignore what happened or bring it up. She was leaning towards the latter. He hadn't tried to reach out to her all morning, so she figured, whatever the situation was, he probably didn't want to talk about it.

She turned the corner and felt herself hit something before falling to the ground hard.

"Oww, god, watch where you're going," she grumbled before recognizing the figure in front of her. "A-arnold?" _Shit_ , she thought to herself, _why do I always sound surprised?_

He was already picking himself off the ground, "Sorry Helga." He stood up and offered his hand to her before helping her to her feet. Suddenly she was face to face with him, their eyes making contact for a brief second before she found herself blush and begin to gather her things. Arnold crouched back down to help her, she could feel him peeking glances at her in between picking up the books and papers that were sprawled on the ground.

"Hey, I'm actually glad I ran into you," He said, as he handed her the last item, giving her a nervous smile.

"Yea?" Helga stood up, standing to face him initially, but feeling awkward for it. _Keep moving_ , she thought to herself nervously, as she started walking towards class without looking at him.

"Yea," Arnold walked quickly behind her to try and catch up, "I um.. I noticed I gave you a call yesterday."

 _Damn technology_ , she thought to herself. If it weren't for the proof that was logged in his phone she might have denied it altogether. "Yea, sounds like you had a wild night," she chose to keep her answers vague, still not sure how she was going to handle this situation. For now, she was going to let him do the talking.

He cleared his throat, "Um.. yea, it was not at all planned that way. Things got a little out of hand."

"Sure, if that's what you say, Football head."

Arnold dodged a student on a skateboard to follow closely behind her, "Helga, do you mind slowing down for a bit?"

She considered telling him no. She didn't appreciate the vibe of the conversation so far. He seemed anxious. Scared almost. All of it seemed ominous. Despite this she found herself slowing her pace.

He softly sighed, "So... ," he seemed hesitant, "What did I…. say to you?"

She stopped altogether and gave him a sideways glance. At least one of her theories proved to be true, he didn't remember. Or worse. He was pretending to not remember and hoping that she would just let him off the hook.

Since she couldn't come up with any other reason for him to ask her such a thing, and because she had been quiet for some time, she finally chose to respond with, "Well, not much. You were just trying to find Gerald. I think you might have called me by mistake." _Don't worry Football Head, off the hook you go._

His eyebrows furrowed, "Oh." He took a minute, "I mean, yea, I guess that makes sense. I do remember looking for him last night."

"Mhm," Helga nodded, before turning to walk towards class once again.

He continued after her, "Is that all I said? Because it was a 12 minute phone call." She felt him softly touch her arm, signalling for her to stop. She turned to him, a little irritated that the conversation was still going, "It's just…" He gave her a sincere look, "I was just worried-"

"About what?" She couldn't help but snap at him now, "I told you, you were just trying to find Gerald."

He looked scared again. The same wide-eyed look he used to give her when they were kids, in moments when she threatened to pound him, "I was just worried that I might have said something to offend you."

She knew she should have responded quickly to this. Lying is an art, any hint of hesitation gives you away. She knew this. And yet she paused and made the mistake of looking him in the eye. Damn her light skin and her blushing reflexes. She quickly tucked her hair behind her ear, "Well you woke me up in the middle of the night, so yea, I guess I'm pretty pissed about that."

He raised an eyebrow, noticing the color in her cheeks, "So that's it? I was just looking for Gerald, and managed to have a 12 minute conversation with you about it?"

What was this, an interrogation? "Yea well, you were pretty incoherent most the time. It took you about 12 minutes to communicate that."

He placed his hands in his pockets, "Ok. Whatever you say, Helga. Either way, I'm sorry."

Their eyes met again and Helga felt herself get lost for a minute, before snapping back.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," she said with a huff, before walking away.


	4. Chapter 4

"Harold, look what I got," Sid revealed a bottle of alcohol that was half hidden in his blazer.

They were currently standing next to the food table at one of Ronda Lloyd's unforgettable high school parties. Ronda prided herself on being rich, and her frequent high school parties were a good way of reminding everyone that she was still on top. Tonight she had actually outdone herself. The backyard was decorated in twinkling lights that stretched from one end to the other. She also had a dance floor installed earlier that day and hired a live DJ. The kids on student government were actually a little nervous that they wouldn't be able to top this at prom.

Harold's eyes grew wide before he let out an excited giggle. "Yes! let's spike the punch!" he said in a whisper shout.

The two boys looked around to ensure they were in the clear before pouring the bottle into the bright red liquid. They quickly ran off snickering.

Helga sat at one of the tables, arms crossed, watching her classmates grind each other on the dance floor. She blew a tuft of hair out of her eyes before scanning the backyard, looking for Arnold. She had seen him come in with Gerald, but lost him in the crowd as he made his way around saying hello to everyone. The last few days at school with him had been uneventful. Both of them hadn't said much to each other since the phone call incident. She got a smile from him every morning on walking in, and sometimes a "Hey, Helga," to go along with it, but not much else. Things were definitely back to their normal, disappointing, stagnant state between him and her. Still, she was thankful, she'd rather have it be that way, than have him avoid her, after realizing what he had said to her.

She finally spotted him standing next to the dessert bar, talking to none other than Lila. Helga sighed, trying to control the anger and envy that bubbled up inside of her. They were smiling and laughing about something, probably something that Lila had said, since she was just so funny and perfect. At one point Lila placed her hand on his forearm, before flipping her hair over her shoulder. It was a simple move, yet flirtatious and graceful, something Helga could never do. Helga rolled her eyes in frustration before hoisting herself up and walking over to the punch, trying to distract herself from obsessing over Arnold and Lila. She poured herself a glass and drank it quickly. The liquid surprised her, stinging her tongue and throat as it went down. She stared at the bowl, recognizing the taste, before turning to look at Arnold again, who was still talking to Lila. From here, he seemed so enamored by her, which was to be expected, but then why wasn't _she_ the one he called that night? She looked at the bowl again, wondering if she should have another. Shrugging, she poured herself another glass and gulped it down.

* * *

Gerald drove his father's car home, with Sid, Harold and Stinky in the back seat. Arnold sat next to him, doing a YouTube search of a cat playing the piano, on his phone.

Most everyone who left the party was sober, seeing as how Sid only had one bottle to pour in the drink. Harold, however, had taken a couple of glasses of it. Arnold and Gerald had to walk him back to Gerald's car and strap him in like a child. He was a bit woozy too, making Gerald nervous about the prospects of him throwing up in his dad's car. Sid supposed he should fess up to Gerald and Arnold, and admit that he supplied Harold the alcohol, but figured what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. As it was, Arnold just got done telling him and Stinky about a video of a cat playing the piano, and he was waiting pretty eagerly to watch it.

"Here it is," Arnold turned around in his seat, facing the screen of his phone towards the guys so they could see. The video was great, the cat was wearing a sweater and playing a catchy tune.

"Ahaha, this cat is so dumb!" Harold held his stomach as he laughed, slurring his speech as he talked.

All was well while they watched the talented feline, until the video froze as the phone began to buzz. The words "Helga Pataki" flashed on the screen.

All three of the guys read the name before Arnold quickly turned it back to himself, staring at the ringing phone. Gerald peeked over before returning his eyes on the road.

"Um, Arnold," Sid started, to Arnold's annoyance, "Why is Helga Pataki calling you right now?"

It was a good question. The party wound down around 1am, so it was pretty late to be getting a phone call from someone.

Gerald turned to him again and whispered, "You know if you answer it right now, these guys are gonna have a lot of questions."

The phone kept ringing, "What's the deal, Arnold?" Stinky unbuckled his seat belt to scoot closer and stare over Arnold's shoulder, "Are you and Helga hooking up, or something?" Arnold gave him a half lidded glare.

"Better do something fast, loverboy, either answer it or let it go to voicemail," Gerald said to him, quietly again.

Arnold gave a quick, nervous, glance to the backseat, before answering the call, "Hey Helga, everything ok?"

"Arnold!" She was loud. He winced and held the phone away from his ear, "Arnold, it's me, Helga G. Pataki."

"Hey, yea I kno-"

"I have a bone to pick with you!" Behind him, Sid and Stinky gave each other a confused look. "Um," Arnold quickly pushed the volume down button on the side of his phone without removing it from his ear, "sure….about what?" He heard a tapping noise followed by Helga saying "ow," under her breath.

"Helga, are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Arnoldo. Just tripped a little. I happen to be wearing these 5 inch heels, that, as it turns out, are NOT the best for walking home."

"Helga, are you walking home by yourself?" It was way too late for her to be by herself. Sid and Stinky were both sitting at the edges of the seat, trying to listen. He waved a hand at them, signaling them to sit back.

"Yes! But don't worry your little football head-ed - " she paused, struggling with the right word before she spat out, "-football head about it!" She was slurring a little as she talked, still pretty loud, "I can take care of myself!"

"Ooh, I don't feel so great," Harold said quietly, getting no one's attention but Gerald's, who anxiously glanced back at him.

"Helga," Arnold lowered his voice, feeling Sid breathing on the back of his ear, trying hear the phone call, "You shouldn't be by yourself, this isn't safe."

"Well what do YOU care? As long as little Miss Lila gets home safe, well gee, I guess that's all that matters."

Arnold had no idea what she was talking about. In the midst of his confusion Gerald turned to Sid, "Sid," he whispered. Sid ignored him, concentrating on eavesdropping. "Sid!" Sid swatted a hand at him, indicating for him to be quiet so he could listen.

"Helga?" Arnold could tell she was still on the call, but she seemed to be talking to someone.

Gerald continued to try and get Sid's attention, "Sid is there a plastic bag or something in the back? Give it to Harold if he feels like he's going to throw up."

Arnold strained to hear Helga over Gerald and Sid's hand swats, "Helga?" She finally came back on, "Arnold there is a very nice man here who is going to give me a ride. So, you just go back to talking to Ms. Perfect." He wasn't sure if he heard right, Harold had starting whining "mommy" in the middle of Helga's last statement. "Wait, what?" He could have sworn he heard her say she was getting in a car with strange man, or something to that effect. "Helga, who is this guy?"

"Don't worry, I'm just going to go home with this nice gentlemen here-"

"No no no, Helga don't get in a car with a stranger!" Arnold couldn't help his voice from rising. In the back seat Sid blew a whistle, while Stinky let out a "Whilikers." A whimper was heard from Harold, but it was most likely unrelated to the current events.

"Au Revoir, Arnold," She said, in the worst French accent he'd ever heard, before she hung up.

"Helga?" He looked at his phone, only to see the picture of his grandparents that he chose as wallpaper. "Shit" Arnold said under his breath, staring at the screen. He turned to his friend and said in a hushed urgency, "Gerald, we need to go back."

Gerald looked at him like he'd grown two heads, "Say what now?" also speaking in a quiet voice.

"She's getting in a car with some strange guy, we gotta go find her."

"Why are you whispering?" Sid peaked his head between them. "Yea, we can hear you," Stinky chimed in.

Arnold ignored them, "Gerald, come on."

As if on cue, another groan was heard from Harold. Gerald shook his head at this, "Dude, I'm sorry, but we gotta get Harold home before he pukes all over my dad's leather seats."

"She could get in some sort of trouble."

Gerald gave him a guilty look, before glancing back at Harold, who might as well have been a ticking time bomb. "Awe man," He sighed, tired of moral dilemmas. "Maybe we don't need to go back. Hold on," He grabbed his phone and dialed a number.

"Now who are _you_ calling at this hour?" Stinky scratched his head.

Gerald waited until the there was an answer, "Hey babe," Sid and Stinky's eyebrows shot up. Gerald continued coolly, "I was wondering, would you know where Helga is?"

Sid looked at Arnold, " _Who_ is he talking to?"

"Who is _babe_?" Stinky asked.

Sid turned to Arnold, "Is it me, or does that sound like Phoebe?"

"Uhuh, uhuh. Ok, no, no reason." Gerald continued, in a soft affectionate voice, "No no, don't worry about a thing-"

Arnold didn't have time for this, he had been sighing in frustration the whole time. As the car came to a red light, he unlocked the door and climbed out.

Gerald's eyes darted towards him, "Arnold, _what_ are you _doing_?" He barely got the words out before he saw his best friend slam the door and start running in the opposite direction.

The car's occupants were in stunned silence.

Suddenly Sid blurted out, "What is this!? Are you dating Pheobe?! Is Arnold hooking up with Helga?!"

"And here I was thinkin we were all just a bunch of single fellas," Stinky added.

Gerald sighed, watching his friend sprint up the street. The light turned green and he hit the gas pedal. "He is one bold kid," he said dryly, before returning to his phone call.

* * *

"Come on, pick up, PICK up," Arnold whispered to himself, as he ran towards Ronda's house. He had been pressing re-dial constantly and getting nothing but voicemail.

He ran up hill, taking note of the street he was approaching, when he heard loud, off key singing from a familiar voice. He quickly turned the corner and caught site of Helga, who was in the middle of putting on a full performance of Bing Crosby's _Moonlight Bay_ for a guy he didn't know. Standing on a car that he didn't recognize.

"Arnold!" She squealed with joy when she saw him, holding her arms out to him invitingly.

The man standing next to the car was visibly annoyed. His arms were crossed and his foot was tapping impatiently. On seeing Arnold, he threw his hands up in frustration, "Oh thank god," He pointed at Helga, "Look kid, I don't want any trouble, just get your girlfriend off of my car."

"Ha! Get a load of this guy, Arnold," Helga waved her thumb in his direction, "He thinks I'm your girlfriend."

Arnold approached, out of breath and baffled, albeit relieved that she was ok, "Uh, yea sure," He said to the stranger-man before turning to Helga, "Helga?"

"WE WERE SAILING ALOOONG, ON MOONLIGHT BAAAY," Helga somehow remembered all of the hand movements that went with the song.

Mr. Stranger Man was starting to lose his patience, "Listen up, you get her down right now, or else there will be hell to pay," He stuck his index finger in Arnold's chest. Arnold nodded back obediently and profusely. "Helga," He tugged at the hem of her dress, "Hey, get down from there,"

"WE COULD HEAR THE VOICES RINNGING, THEY SEEM TO SAAAY," She clasped both hands together and popped up her leg at this. Arnold couldn't help but stifle a laugh. He heard the grumpy stranger clear his throat. "Helga get down!" Arnold tried to sound assertive. Helga paused in her singing to yell back, "No!" before continuing, "YOU HAVE STOLEN MY HEAART."

"Alright I've had enough of this, get her off my car or –" The guy started reaching into his jacket, "I'll have you know, I take the second amendment pretty seriously." Arnold felt the blood drain from his face as he wondered if the guy really had a gun, "Wait, are you serious?" His voice squeaky.

"You really want to wait and find out?" The guy said through gritted teeth, his hand still in his coat pocket.

Arnold gulped. He grabbed Helga by the legs, threw her over his shoulder and began to run.

"Please don't shoot!" he yelled back, while Helga continued to sing, "- AND GONE AWAAY. AS WE SING THIS MOONLIT SONG ON MOONLIGHT BAY."

She paused for effect, "ONNN...MOOOONNN...LIIIGHT...BAAAAAY," Giving Mr. Grumps jazz hands over Arnold's shoulder for the grand finish.

The man rolled his eyes and took a twinkie out of his pocket. _Stupid kids_ , he shook his head and he climbed into his vacant car.


End file.
